


Dance for Me, Deer

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers: Robots in Disguise (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, F/M, Sticky Sexual Interfacing, Sugar Daddy, he's so bad but he does it so well, he's so tall and handsome as hell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-27
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-05-09 18:48:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5551352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strongarm will never admit it, but Earth wasn't the first time she met Thunderhoof. That occasion was much longer ago, when she was working to pay for her Academy tuition fees...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was a Christmas present for natasha-kuryakin on tumblr. It's got nothing to do with Christmas and I can't write Thunderhoof, but she seemed to like it anyway.  
> Please don't hate me for the pun...

According to Swindle, tonight's client was special. He'd paid for and expected every service available, everything barring outright fragging in the middle of his VIP suite (Primus forbid Swindle have to wash any stains out of his seats). Strongarm had to listen to so many new rules made just for him, she'd forgotten to ask what the fragger's name was.

And she'd forgotten again the first time she saw him looming in the suite's doorway.

"You paying to just stand there all night?" She wouldn't have minded it normally, but a mech hefting around antlers that big must have had a world full of neck-cable problems to deal with. 

"Don't rush me, sweetspark, I'm still enjoyin' the view," he drawled in a Stanix-drenched accent from the doorway, rolling a cygar between his digits and looking like he owned the entire damn building. He didn't, of course, but it took a lot to trump the pride that Swindle had for his own club.

"You'd enjoy it a lot more if you came a little closer," is what she was expected to say, but he indulged his optics for a few more nanoklicks before taking his seat in front of her. The whole room was ringed with plush seating, ideal for a mech to lie back while a femme straddled and grinded him into madness, but just the one mech took up nearly three spaces all for himself.

By this point Strongarm usually would have started wrapping herself around the pole and imagining it was someone's spike, but it seemed the mech wasn't done admiring her. She tried not to roll her optics as his optics slicked over her body with his cygar clamped in his denta. "I can see why you're Swindle's favourite femme," he half-successfully said around the thick stalk, keeping his mouth open in a smoking grin as he popped it back out between his digits. The ash tickled Strongarm's olfactories but didn't send her vents into a seizure of coughing like the cheap Tarnian cygars she was used to putting up with (you'd think anyone with enough credits to get an evening in the VIP suite with her could afford better stuff, but clients seemed to be only selectively wasteful of their wages). 

So this one was rich, and he knew Swindle personally. Suddenly Strongarm found herself liking him a lot more. 

"He has a lot of favourites," she said, leaning back on her pole with a servo twirled around it. Now that her chestplates were in full view, his attention doubled on her. "Not like he can be picky."

His optics didn't budge from her chest as he snorted short gunshots of laughter, sprawling servos across the backs of his seats and looking like he was melting into the foam as his helm tipped back. For a nanoklick Strongarm thought his antlers would wrench on his neck, but the cables barely strained as his helm snapped back up into the perfect place to stare at her. His glossa slid over a sharp incisor as ash still spilled from his mouth.

"He treat ya' good?" he asked, smoke rings making ghosts of his words.

"Not as good as he should," Strongarm replied, starting to circle the pole and scouting for the best way to lunge on it. 

The mech chuckled again in agreement as he watched her prowl. "I'd treat ya' like you deserve, sweetspark."

Strongarm's optics rolled along with her servos as they gripped the pole, suspending her in a pose straight out of a Playmech datapad. "You're not the first mech to promise me that."

His digits twitched twice to dislodge cold sludge from his cygar. "I'm the first who'd'a meant it, though."

If he really was as wealthy as he looked, Strongarm almost could have believed that. At least she had the chance to finally get a name for him. "And who can I owe my heroic rescue to?" She spoke in a sigh, half from exertion in pulling herself further up the pole and half from mocking the idea. Not that the mech could notice when he was so absorbed in her exposed cleavage.

"The name Thunderhoof mean anythin' to ya'?" he asked. 

Strongarm was a nanoklick away from losing her grip and plummeting in a very unattractive pile on the floor. Coolant soaked her hands even as she shrugged, expertly refusing to remember she'd heard that name in between Cybertron's most wanted criminals. Her tone was throw-away, like what little armour she wore. "It might."

Thunderhoof was just as unreadable, expression drowned in nothing more than lust. If he'd caught her out, he could be planning her execution and watching her writhe at the same time. "Swindle said you'd be sassy." He groaned as his codpiece started to strain, obvious from how far his legs were spaced. "I like sassy."

Strongarm forced herself to smile down at him, all the vapid stripper tonight and none of the terrified police recruit sweating under her protoform. She went through the motions as the walls thudded with music and other bodies outside- surrounding them both yet miles away at the same time. Thunderhoof smoked, sipped and stared all the while, idly grinding his hips in the air when her aft was in the violet spotlight. 

It was a long time before he said anything more to her, digits gesturing towards her now that they were rid of his emptied cygar. "Come 'ere, sweetspark..." 

His voice was so low now Strongarm felt it reverb through her cytoskeleton, and instantly it froze even as her limbs sagged from fatigue. Any closer, and he could easily crush her spark. 

But Thunderhoof just frowned below quirked eyeridges, and even his antlers seemed to droop. She wasn't sure how a crime lord could look hurt, but he somehow pulled it off. "I just wanna see your optics closer," he said. 

Strongarm compressed her relief into a hush of air from her vents, pulling herself upright with her precious pole and swinging herself to climb down into Thunderhoof's lap. "Sure that's the only thing you want to see?" Confusion was wiped from the mech's face, replaced with the now familiar veneer of desire that Strongarm was in real danger of enjoying as it hovered close to her lips. She straddled him, cautiously before she was sitting on the hard bulge of his codpiece as it grinded gently against her. His hands, still warm from smoke, wandered over the slope of her aft and she didn't try slapping them away, even when his thick digits twisted underneath the string-clasps of her valve covering. Even with her chestplates swelling around his faceplate, bouncing up as she rode his hips, he was true to his word- his optics were only locked onto hers, and she didn't mind the fact that they were red so much.

"Y'know you can touch 'em... if ya' want." Strongarm was so lost in the moment she didn't realise he was talking about his antlers at first. Curiosity flooded in at the offer and she took it up, tentatively stroking one digit, and then two, over the firm struts on his helm. Smooth metal, even smoother than protoform, shuddered slightly under her palm.

"Never thought I'd say this to a mech, but... you have a nice rack."

His laugh was deeper than his pockets and had all the richness she could want at that moment. "Not as nice as yours, baby."


	2. Chapter 2

That evening, Strongarm left the club with a subspace much heavier than what she'd walked in with, and Thunderhoof’s smoky laughter still ringing in her audios. And other evenings after that one saw the crime lord becoming her favourite client, only half because of how generous he was with credits. Even Swindle was suspicious of his cut, grilling Strongarm afterwards about what else she did to snag Thunderhoof, what kind of money was she getting that he wasn't seeing, but even he knew to believe her when she insisted she wasn't fragging him on the side. 

Not yet, at least. 

Now it was their fifth session together, and it seemed he only got more drunk on her with each one. He got through his cygars much quicker, eagerly leaving his hands free to slip and ease their way across the planes of her body, now cupping her aft as he mumbled into her neck. 

“Mmh… babe?” He’d never asked what her real name was, and she was happy with that. She moaned lightly, letting him know she heard him and that he was touching her just right. “I’ve… got a proposition for ya’.”

And it couldn't be anything good coming out of a vocaliser so drenched in ill intentions. “Like what?” she asked, pulling him away from her neck by his horns, almost regretting it when she saw the bright, burning red optics over a grin that would have made Unicron himself blush.

“Like… us doin’ a lot more than just makin’ googly optics all evenin’.” The hands on her aft spread themselves wide, trailing digits down her thighs now, and he could definitely feel how hot her frame was getting. Whether that was from arousal or anxiety, Strongarm tried to avoid deciding for now.

“You… want interface?” She didn't push his hands away or even flinch from him, but her hesitancy was all laid out in her voice. He stopped, letting his digits and frown dangle while blinking the lust out of his optics.

“Look, you're young, you're only doin’ this for cash, I get it. But… I like ya’. You got somethin’ other femmes round here don't got. And if you're up for it… I’d pay well.” He offered her a smile that had no right being on a Decepticon’s face, one that calmed her more than she wanted to admit. 

“I… I don't know…” She said it mostly to herself, to the awkward virgin inside still banging furiously against her spark chamber, though Thunderhoof heard and matched how quiet her voice was now. 

“I won't make ya’ do anything you don't wanna, babe.” He raised one of his hands to her face, lightly touching her cheek, forcing her to admit how tender he felt and how much she wanted that touch elsewhere. She was optic candy to a criminal, a mech wanted in just about every state on the planet and who’d killed bots with those hands he let wander all over her protoform  
A mech who’d probably have her friends on his payroll in less than five stellar cycles after enrolling into the force. So really, she was just beating them all to it. That was what she told herself among a hundred other little reasonings, anything to make her feel less guilty about enjoying him. 

“...How much did you say you'd give?” she asked quietly, feeling two thick digits tilt her chin up so she was bathed in the brimming light of his optics.

“How does three thousand credits sound?” 

It sounded like more than she made in a vorn, enough to pay off an entire term of Academy tuition with at least half left over, and most of all, far too good to be true. “Just for one night?”

Thunderhoof chuckled, like he was amused at her shock or like knew exactly what that sound did to her. “There could be a lot more than just one if you want…” As he skimmed down her thighs all over again, lingering on the one piece of armour between her legs that stayed on, Strongarm almost didn't notice how much heat was building behind it as she tasted the smoke lingering on Thunderhoof’s lips, the moans on his glossa stoking her spark and daring her to moan back. A tiny one, reluctant but needy, slipped out as their mouths pulled away, though she still had a firm hold on his antlers. If not for Swindle’s rule, she’d have happily taken his spike then and there. But he was the one last hurdle standing between her and potentially the greatest night of her life.

“You’d need to give Swindle a lot as well to let me go-” One of those roaming digits pressed on her lips.

“Don't you worry about that slagger,” Thunderhoof rumbled. “He values his spark too much to get in my way.” The hidden threat added barbs to his voice that only turned her on even more, and she had to mute her audios as he curtly informed Swindle of their departure in case she overloaded in his servos. 

Being held so gently by one of Cybertron’s most dangerous criminals, being taken right into the spark of his kingdom, she was convinced it was all a hallucination during a lecture until he carried her into his home, somewhere past vault doors and sentinel drones deep within Kaon, to a single room bigger than her entire dorm with a berth that could have held a whole gestalt team. She didn't see much of the furnishings, grand and golden and blurring past her, before she was dropped onto that immense surface to sink into its softness and stare up at the pronged crime lord standing over her at the foot of the berth.

“...You've never done this before, huh?” His low question vibrated through her as he caressed her legs and looped them over his hips, somehow keeping his optics locked onto hers as they both simmered. 

“N...No…” Strongarm hadn't thought much about her first interface, but she'd never expected it would be with a criminal, a _Decepticon_. She shouldn’t have been hoping for it either, but with her legs spread it was hard to hide the proof as Thunderhoof hovered a hand over her panel, sliding his chest armour aside with his other hand. 

“Well, you had me fooled until now.” With his scarred, wide chest bare against hers, he lowered himself over her; knees braced on either side of her body with a servo near her helm, the other nudging her valve as he kissed her again. His tongue absorbed most of her quiet moans, but one slipped out in a hissing whimper as he pulled the panel aside to rub her nodes. Again he stopped, freeing her lips and leaving her head pressed hard into the mattress.

“I'm not _that_ scary, am I?” If the question itself wasn't enough to make Strongarm laugh, his sheepish smile made her explode into very embarassing giggles. 

“Well, you are… but I kinda like it.” Warm air washed over her as he huffed, leaning in to take her mouth again while her smile was still bright and her valve still wet against his digits. He swirled one digit across her nodes, eased two of them into her contacting walls and only giving her some idea of what his spike would feel like. But it was still enough to make her squirm and gasp into his mouth, then into the air as he nipped at her neck. 

Still feeling her valve, he let her hands tug on his horns as he pulled her up to sit in his lap. Now she could see what she felt throbbing lightly against her abs, a spike reaching just under his pectorals, red fluid trickling from its flat head. Even if she'd seen a spike before, she wouldn't have been any less daunted by the size, and Thunderhoof’s hesitant smile returned to her wide optics.

“You'll tell me if it hurts, right?” 

Strongarm nodded slowly, falling into Thunderhoof’s servos again as he pressed her into his chest, swelling her protoform against him as she settled comfortably in his lap. Still gripping his horns, she pulled herself up so his spike eased between her legs, slowly letting the head slide her valve apart.

“Oh Primus, baby…” Thunderhoof groaned into her cleavage, turning her so they lay at the top of the berth and he could lie on a mountain of pillows as she sat on his cord. His digits only prepared her for the first few inches, but the lube filling her valve let the rest slip in with only a dull sting as he swelled against her slick walls. He watched her slack expression, the denta biting her lips as he dragged his glossa over his own. 

With his spike hilted and no request to slow down, he hauled her aft up to pull it halfway out of her, a rush of blue lube spilling over his thighs and a tingling left inside her before he slammed back inside, and again, over and over in a jolting rhythm that made it hard for Strongarm to get her moans out as they piled against each other. Thunderhoof let a smirk hang open as her chestplates banged against him, optics and sharp denta glinting all over her. Even if it hurt… she wasn't sure if she would have minded enough to make him stop.

“Ah… Thunder...hoof…ah! Mmm, yes, yes…!”

“Yeah… yeah, let it out, baby... “ Thunderhoof’s vocaliser devolved into smug, feral growls as his thrusts became even deeper, matching her own against him as she chased climax with leverage from his antlers. Everything went limp, tension dissolving in the wake of pleasure flooding her whole body… along with transfluid as Thunderhoof bucked out a roaring overload of his own. Thick spurts of red mixed with blue streaks of lube, and she still felt him leaking as she collapsed on top of his heaving chest. His hands, suddenly weak, dropped from her aft and lay flat by his sides with his vents grating. 

“Babe, for an overload like that… you take however much you want.” 

With her strength slowly returning, Strongarm pulled herself off his spike and slowly pushed up, looking for where her armour had been tossed aside among his own and, with artifacts and custom Nova-styled furniture everywhere in the gloom, seeing for the first time just how wealthy he actually was. Everything bought with energon-soaked credits… just like her. 

She might have been disgusted if it hadn't been so worth it, and Thunderhoof called to her before she could think too deeply with the overload-haze fading from her processor.

“You don't gotta leave just yet…” He pushed himself up, looking at her on the edge of the berth with soft optics. “It’s dangerous out there this late.”

Strongarm almost laughed, as if it wasn't any less dangerous here with him, and she struggled to not glance down at his spike with fluid still shining over the thick shaft. “Worried I might get lost?” 

“Somethin’ like that.” He stretched a servo towards her, patting the space beside him. “Come on, I won't bite. And you'll still get paid in the mornin’.” 

Strongarm was already missing the warmth of those muscles beckoning her, so there really wasn't much she could tell herself to stop her going back to him. Her helm lay on his chest, with a faint roar past the protoform that took her some time to recognise as his spark, long enough that Thunderhoof had already pulled something over them both with his servos tight around her and his helm resting lightly on hers. She shouldn’t have felt so safe in a criminal’s embrace.

“...Can we do this again sometime?” she asked, almost surprised at how hushed her vocaliser was. 

“Of course.” She felt him kiss her forehelm, his vents tickling her in a soothing silence before he gave her his own question.

“...Does this make me your sugar daddy?” 

Strongarm practically snorted against his chest. “I've only got one Daddy, and he'd kill me if he knew what I was doing.”

“Maybe ya’ could use another one, then…”

She might have mumbled something back, but her senses were fading slowly and Thunderhoof didn't want to disturb her any further.

It was the first time she'd shared a berth with someone, never mind one that wasn't her own. She thought she could get used to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is now a sugar daddy AU cause SIGN ME THE FUCK UP


End file.
